


Safeword

by kaylynnkie



Series: Center Verse [4]
Category: Supernatural RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - BDSM, Alternate Universe - Dystopia, BDSM, Domination, Humiliation, M/M, Non Consensual, Rape/Non-con References, Strapping, Swearing, Whipping
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-28
Updated: 2013-05-27
Packaged: 2017-12-13 05:01:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 9,999
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/820295
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kaylynnkie/pseuds/kaylynnkie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A dystopian AU inspired by CW Center where corporal punishment is the norm and handled by dominant persons called caseworkers. Jensen is found guilty of several violations of speech and distribution of information and is sent to the Center for correction. He captivates a certain caseworker who knows better but can't stop his fascination with this specific case. An appointment with the Center doesn't go entirely as planned.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Third Appointment

Part One: Third Appointment

“This is an exercise, 67,” Jared paused, checking to make sure Jensen was holding onto the edge of the table securely. He thrust his knee between Jensen's legs, bracing them wide. “Relax.”

“Yes, Sir.”

“As I said before, 67. This is an exercise in _trust_.”

He let the air hang between them, heavy and silent, for a long time. When he spoke next, his voice was soft. “I am aware you have PTSD triggers. It is not the desire of the State to cause you _anguish_ in any way. I am here to help you become a better citizen. What we are going to do here is about you trusting in others, in me. The State. When I crack the whip, you are to keep still.

"Every time you move, either away from me or merely as reflex, you will receive five lashes with the whip. After you are able to stay still for the duration of a 100 lashes, your punishment will be over. Do you have any questions before we begin?”

“No, Sir.”

“You have read the pamphlet?”

“Yes, Sir.”

“Are you ready to begin?”

“Yes, Sir.”

Jared turned to face the camera. “Case 67. Date; March 28, 2010; time; 10:45AM; caseworker; Jared.” He took a deep breath. “The case has reported for correctional blinding, and the State will provide.”

He approached Jensen from behind and fit a silk blindfold securely over his eyes before unfurling the whip he had been holding loosely in his left hand. Letting him know what was coming, Jared gently stroked the handle and leather over Jensen's exposed form.

“This is my whip, 67. It is the whip of the State, and today, I am the State. Respect the whip. Respect me. And respect the State.”

He cracked the whip loudly like lighting in a storm. To his disappointment, Jensen flinched.

“67, grip the frame.”

Jensen scrambled to obey before Jared brought the whip down hard across his backside. Over and over. Five thin red lines appeared across the taunt skin of his buttocks.

“Recite the stipulations of your punishment.”

“To keep still, Sir.”

“Why haven't you kept still then?”

He hesitated and Jared leaned forward to grip Jensen's chin.

“Answer me, 67,” he ordered quietly but firmly.

Jensen leaned into his touch slightly. “I'm afraid, Sir.”

“Of?” he pressed.

“You, Sir.”

Jared slowly removed his hand. “Thank you for being honest with me. We will resume now. Remember to keep still.”

He brought the whip down three times and found that the other man managed to keep perfectly still. “You're doing well. That was three.” The next five lashes were successful and Jared praised him.

But, tension was settling in his thighs and he was worked up from being so close to Jared that he flinched at the next two lashes. He heard Jared sigh, and his heart plummeted.

“I'm sorry, Sir.”

“I know you are,” he said kindly before proceeding to rain down 10 more unmerciful blows to his ass.

Jensen wavered and almost fell to his knees, but Jared pressed a large hand against his belly to hold him up. He placed his other hand on top of Jensen's.

“Keep your grip!” he snapped.

“Yes, Sir,” he gasped. “Try to, Sir.”

Worry knotted uncomfortably in Jared's chest. They weren't more than a tenth of the way through, and Jensen was exhausted. He ran his hands over the muscles of Jensen's legs to find that they were trembling, and a fine sheen of sweat covered his flesh.

“Good. Steady yourself,” he warned before cracking the whip once.

Pleased by Jensen's response, he stroked the tails of the ship down the middle of his back, soothing him in this small way. Three more cracks, and Jensen kept his place, trembling. But not flinching.

“Tell the State how you feel, 67.”

No answer.

“67”? he asked cautiously.

“Sorry, Sir!” He swallowed. “Afraid, Sir. I feel...afraid.”

He pressed further. “Why?”

“I'll get hit, Sir. Don't wanna get hit, Sir.” He rested his head on his knuckles. “Sorry, Sir,” he added softly. “Please...”

“Yes, 67?”

“Don't hate me, Sir,” he whispered.

“67, this is correction. No one hates anyone. Least of all me.”

When it became clear that Jensen was done speaking, Jared ran the whip over his flesh again. Up and down his inner thighs this time. Jensen shivered and rubbed against the leather.

“Careful,” Jared murmured.

This time he kept up a steady thrumming pace that Jensen relaxed into. “25 lashes done. You're doing well.”

The next lash made Jensen flinch. This time there was no warning when Jared rained down the blows. Jensen's cries were sharp and cut through the air, biting deep into Jared's core.

Jared set down the whip. “Take a moment to gather yourself.”

“Sir!” he cried out. “My leg hurts, Sir.”

He turned back to see Jensen's left calf tense in a cramp, and the man fell forward knocking into the frame before hitting the floor and curling into a ball.

“Hurts,” he whimpered.

Jared rushed forward and gathered the other man close. “I'm suspending the session. Come on. Let's get some ice on that and a heating pad.”

He lifted the other man up into his arms and walked through the back, where there was a private bath area. A mat was laid out on the floor, thick and plush.

“Here. Get down on you belly, Jensen.”

The other man looked at him warily, sliding down Jared's chest and whimpering when his feet came into contact with the floor. Jared caught him easily when he almost fell again and helped him lie down.

Calmly and methodically, Jared proceeded to first clean out the bleeding wounds on his ass and thighs and cover them with clean dressings. He places an ice pack across the tense muscle, then wiped away the sticky sheen of sweat away with a cool damp clothe. Before he removed the ice, he stood and opened a metal cabinet built into the wall and pulled out a warm towel, which he wrapped in a blanket. He switched the ice out for the warmth. Jensen sighed in content.

“Lay on your belly, Jen. Here's a pillow and while you wind down, I'll get your clothes.

~

Jensen closed his eyes gratefully and felt when Jared removed the keys from his wrist. He let himself drift between unconsciousness and consciousness. Occasionally, the warmth of Jared's hands pressed against his flesh, and he sighed, relishing in the feeling of safety and comfort it ignited within him.

“Come on, Jen. Let's get you dressed.”

Jared gently tugged on Jensen's underwear and jeans, taking care to jostle his wounds as little as possible.

“I can finish,” he murmured taking his shirt from Jared and pulling it on with his socks.

Jared watched him intently. “You cut your lip.”

His hand flew up to his lower lip, and he was surprised when the tips of his fingers caught on the forming scab. “I fell,” he whispered.

There was a tangible fear in his voice that Jared didn't like at all. He sat down near the mat and motioned for Jensen to sit by him.

“Or you can sit on the toilet.”

Jensen chose the latter and looked down at Jared silently.

“I'm sorry you fell. That should not have happened. I'm going to apply for a change in your sentencing program. I don't like the binding,” he added quietly.

The other man tilted his head careful not to say anything, but Jared was willing to bet there was something akin to affection in his eyes.

“There is another option available to,” he paused here before repeating himself. “There is another option available for _special_ cases at the Center. A pleasure session instead of a punishment session would be a different experience. The goal, overall, would be the same. I am here to help you become a better citizen of the State in any way I can. The implementation of the punishment would be different. Our relationship at the Center would become more...sexually demanding than physically demanding. Would you be willing to make that concession?”

Jensen toyed with the hem of his shirt, thinking all of what he was saying over carefully and trying to ignore the burning pain of his ass. He wriggled uncomfortably.

Jared took notice of his movements. “Are you comfortable here?” He frowned. “We'll go upstairs to the main offices.”

He stood up, unfolding himself from this curled up ball into this gigantic form of a man, and reached out to tug Jensen to his feet. He took Jensen back through the room but went through a different door that went down another hallway to an elevator. Jensen folded his arms self consciously, rubbing his arms anxiously. The elevator was made of glass, and when they stepped inside, Jared pushed the button for floor 30. Upstairs was a world away from the emergency room sterility of the reception area Jensen walked through for his appointments. Where Jared brought him was well lit and cheery. The carpet was thick and lush, and Jensen felt a little guilty when his dirty sneakers left marks over the pretty colors. Portraits hung on the wall in a strange juxtaposition to the somberness of the Center and what was happening on the lower floors. Jensen paused at a particularly captivating oil canvas of a woman sitting in front of a window. Her chin was resting on the top of her hand and elegant jewelry hung loose on her wrists and was draped eccentrically from her neck. He reached to touch the painted pendent in the shape of a hear but stopped short.

Out of the corner of his eye, Jared watched Jensen carefully. What he was doing was incredibly unorthodox. Cases weren't typically allowed on the upper levels even if they were accompanied by caseworkers.

“Come on, Jensen. We'll stop on the way out if you want to look.”

Jensen jumped and turned to him in surprise, eyes wide as if he had forgotten that someone else was there with him. His hand fell slowly to his side. Nodding reluctantly, he followed. They stopped in front of a large entryway. Jensen took a step back when the doors swung open wide, but Jared was behind him, gripping his elbow and firmly pushing him inside. The office was made almost entirely of glass.

It was warm inside and smelled of lavender. There were two large desks in front of a set of smaller see through glass doors. They had pretty frosted designs on them, and Jensen wanted to run his fingers over the swirls and feel whether or not they were smooth. Maybe he could do something like that the next time he did a painting. Jared spoke quietly with one of the men behind the desk and was led into through the glass doors. Jensen only noticed because the frosted glass changed when the light caught it, and he could see the dark color of Jared's pants swirling darkly when the delicate decoration blended with the ruggedness of Jared's clothing. Reality crashing into fantasy. He froze suddenly, realizing for the first time that he was all alone, and he didn't know any of these people. He started to gasp desperately for air, and the room started to darken and close in around him.

“Hey there,” a woman said touching his elbow. “Let me help you sit down.” She led him over to a comfortable chair with a small stack of magazines and books on a table next to it. “Can I get you some water?” He nodded mutely, and she went through a door Jensen couldn't remember seeing when they first came in. There were too many doors. Too many ways to get lost. It was too...

“There we are!” she declared in triumph and passed him a glass full of more ice than water.

He accepted it with a soft, “Thank you,” and settled deeper into the cushions, hopeful that he could vanish into their large plushness.

He didn't.

When the doors opened again, it wasn't Jared who came out but instead, a man who was slightly shorter and wearing a suit and earpiece. He spoke in a rough bark that frightened Jensen into movement.

“67 Ackles!”

Jensen jumped up. “Yes, Sir?”

“You're wanted inside.”

He left his glass on the table, a ring of water forming underneath , and followed the newest stranger he had encountered today.

The room was even nicer than the doors. Huge windows formed one of the walls and led out onto a balcony. What of the view he could make out from here was breathtaking. This place must have soured above the sky because he could see the entire city below and the fluffy white tops of some of the clouds. There were men and women seated at a large round table dressed in fancy suits and looking extremely busy and bored at the same time. Jared was seated nearest the door, and for the first time, Jensen noticed that the band on his arm bore the same silver CW as the building because it was on all of _their_ lapels.

It was an older man who spoke first. He was middle aged and a little pudgy, the hair on his head was thinning and he smiled sadly. “Hello, Mr. Ackles. My name is Erik Kripke. I'm a senior partner here at the CW Center. Please, sit down. Wherever you prefer.”

There was a general murmur of agreement. Jensen looked at Jared hopefully, but he didn't see a seat next to him and began to panic. Jared, however, seemed to understand the cause of his unease.

“Can he sit next to me, Eric?”

Eric nodded and gestured to the big man from before, and a chair was set down next to Jared. Jensen took it and waited for someone to start talking.

“It's been brought to our attention by Jared,” a woman was speaking this time, “that your sentence should be reconsidered. As a member of the Review Committee, I do have to admit that I don't see a whole lot of progress from the current course of treatment. Do you disagree?”

Jensen felt his chest clench. “Lock up?” he whispered.

“No.” She shook her head. “I don't think that's the best place for you right now.”

Jared leaned forward, and Jensen leaned back. He didn't understand, and he felt foolish for not understanding when everyone else seemed to.

“Jared has suggested a pleasure scene. Are you familiar with the Center's involvement in creating a fantasy atmosphere for those who benefit from a restriction of control and movement during pleasurably activities?”

“BDSM?” he asked unable to stop himself from raising an eyebrow.

There was a soft chorus of polite laughter. “Similar. However, you are a case of the State. We want you to benefit from your time here. Your classes help, but Jared has suggested something that he thinks this will be more powerful. You do have the right to refuse this alternative and continue your current treatment,” she paused, “or as you mentioned before, there is always lockup.”

He spoke before he could stop himself. “Why didn't Jared tie me up?”

The youngest looking women out of all of them spoke up. Her hair was bright blonde, and on any other day, Jensen would have said she was pretty, but the set of her mouth made her hard.

“The Center practices blinding. At this stage in your recovery program, you should have been able to hold your position with little difficulty. The fact that you were unable to does speak to Jared's concern about this course of treatment, though.”

“That's not fair, Alona.” Jared was speaking now, and his tone was clipped, serious. “Blinding only has an eight percent success rate with most sessions ending in injury or worse. It's dangerous for the case and the caseworker.”

“We can only ask for everyone to follow the safety guidelines. We cannot enforce them. That is the job of the caseworkers. Is it not?”

Jared tightened his hand into a fist, but he said nothing more on the matter. “I understand what you're trying to say, Alona.”

Eric cleared his throat softly and the others at the table turned to him. “Jensen, this is _your_ treatment, and we have very high hopes for you. You are a very promising case. Jared agrees that you have amazing potential. Now,” he leaned forward, resting his chin on the tops of his hands, “should you agree to this alternate procedure, you will not have the aid of our general pamphlets and suggested correction courses. Jared will personalize a plan for you because he is a trusted caseworker here. You will answer to him, and he will provide the best care you could imagine.”

The woman who had given Jensen the water in the waiting area entered the room carrying a small stack of paper and several pens. “Here is the revised contract you asked for, Mr. Kripke.”

“Very good.” He smiled at her and took the offered papers. “Thank you.”

“You're welcome, Sir.” She smiled back before walking out quietly.

Eric passed the papers down to Jensen. “This is yours. You have 48 hours to decide if this is the course of action you would like to take. If you decide yes, then bring this back and Jared will set up your first scene that day. If not, then dispose of this contract and report back in a month. You still come back in a month regardless, so you should make that appointment before you leave.”

~

The drive back to Jensen's apartment was quiet. The older man refused to look at Jared, and Jared didn't want to admit that it upset him in some small way. When the pulled in to the parking lot, Jensen got out and walked into the building without looking back. Jared stayed in the car, chewing his lip and trying to decide if he would be overstepping his bounds by following him inside. After reaching the third consecutive 'I still have to work with him,' he cursed himself and shoved the door open.

Caseworkers had key-card access to all of their cases homes and places of work. Since Jensen's was an all in one, it was an even better perk than usual. Jared slid his card through the reader and it whirred for a moment before shining the tell tale blue and unlocking. He stepped into the space and was instantly comforted by the atmosphere. The same safety he had felt that first afternoon when he had driven Jensen home overwhelmed him and embraced him at the same time. He could hear water running in another room. Making himself at home, he found the kitchen and poured himself a glass of lemonade from the fridge and rooted around for something to munch on. He was starving and...nervous.

It couldn't have been more than fifteen minutes later, when he heard the water turn off and puttering about coming from the bathroom. Jensen entered the kitchen in a pair of jeans and a towel draped around his shoulders. He didn't look all that surprised to see Jared leaning against the counter eating crackers almost conspiratorially and merely nodded before starting to make a cup of coffee.

“Are you going to agree to the contract?”

Jensen's mouth twisted as if he were in pain, and Jared mentally kicked himself. Of course he wasn't ready to talk about all of his options yet. They had just had a session and it had ended on the most terrible note so far. It hadn't even technically ended. It had been suspended due to an unintended injury.

“You don't have to-”

“Can we pretend I have some control in my own _home_?” he muttered quietly. “At least for a little while?”

He glared and Jared felt his stomach plummet.

“Why the hell did you do that?”

“Because I don't like blinding,” he said easily. “It's not safe. A lot of cases get hurt that way, and I don't like seeing them get hurt.”

“You didn't tell me you were going to propose a sentence change today, Jared.”

The other man looked up at his name. It sounded strangely alien after hearing Jensen call him 'Sir' for so long.

“I didn't think that you would consider the idea if I didn't prove to you that I was serious about proposing it. There didn't seem to a better time.”

“You lied to me,” he whispered. “You promised me you were gonna _help_ me.”

And that was when Jared noticed the bright pools of tears in Jensen's eyes. The other man had wrapped his arms around himself, trying to contain himself.

“I am,” he promised, stepping towards Jensen experimentally. When the other man didn't pull away, he drew him close. “I know you feel like I hid something from you, but I didn't. I take my job very seriously, Jen. Your safety and your growth are the most important things to me. I didn't ask for a –Wait.” He pulled back, gripping Jensen's shoulders. “Do you think I asked for a change in treatment because I want sexual power over you?”

Jensen shrugged, his eyes glued to the floor.

“Jensen.” Lowering his voice when he saw Jensen flinch, he repeated gently, “Jensen. I would never abuse my power like that.” He tilted Jensen's face up towards him. “Listen to me. I promise. I would never do that to you. You can trust me. I've never lied to you.”

“I don't think...I don't know if I can be _that_ with you if we're not,” he motioned at the air between them, and Jared sighed.

“A relationship is the last thing you need right now, and the Center prohibits involvement between cases and caseworkers while they're still engaged in a Center rehabilitation program. I can't give that to you right now even if I wanted to.”

He looked hurt, and he really had every right to. They were both thinking back to that one night where Jared had stayed over and done a whole lot more than 'rehabilitate.'

“Where the hell do you get off being so high and mighty?” he snapped and stepped back, folding his arms. The cup of coffee was resting on the counter.

“I'm not the one with the criminal record!” Once the words were out of his mouth, he wished he could scoop them all up and put them back in.

A stricken look crossed Jensen's face, and he picked up the coffee and retreated into the living room. Jared's chest tightened. He knew better than to use his case's records as a weapon against them. Jensen knew that he had done something wrong, hell, he was reminded every single day. He was forced to wear an ID bracelet, report his itinerary every week, attend sessions at the Center and go to Citizenship classes. The fact that he still didn't think he had done anything wrong wasn't helping either.

He poured himself his own cup of coffee and followed Jensen. The older man was curled up on the sofa, gazing off into the distance. Jared set down his mug on the table next to Jensen's and settled down on his knees.

“I lied.”

Jensen looked down at him, but he didn't say anything.

“About the criminal record thing,” he continued. “About not having one. I did. I used to.” He toyed with the chain around his wrist, a plate hung from it with his caseworker number on it. “If you'd like to hear it, I'd like to tell you about my time at the Center.”

Those green eyes lit up with interest, and Jared felt happiness bubble up inside of him as he realized that he was the reason Jensen looked so happy. Even if it was happiness at his _mistakes._

“My family is from the higher sects of the city. They're...wealthy.”

“Which family?”

He shook his head. “It doesn't-”

More firmly this time. “I want to know. Which family?”

“The Padeleckies.” He flinched at Jensen's sharp intake of breath, but he didn't say anything. For that Jared was grateful. “I was young...stupid. It was just after Chancellor Gamble had assumed power. I was seventeen and thought the world was my plaything.” He smiled bitterly. “So, I started drinking and...betting. It was foolish and selfish and...” he drifted off shaking his head. “I bet against the wrong people. There was a race down at the track my parents owned before it was made illegal and there was a mare who never lost.

And I thought I was so smart. So much better than everyone else because I _knew_ stuff, you know? There wasn't even a good reason. I bet on her. Desert Storm was her name and I bet on her against this guy: Martin Kane. He was friends with my parents and my godfather. He bet on the circuit with high stakes. I had been drinking and partying. There was this pretty girl who suggested it, and I though 'what the hell?' I laid down money and got a ticket on loan with a high interest rate. I was at home when the results came in. The call came in around 2AM. My grandmother picked up and I'll never forget the look on her face.

She was so mad at me.”

Jensen looked up at his tone. Jared's voice had been steady throughout the whole story not pausing once and not inflecting in the slightest. When he mentioned his grandmother, though, it started to crack and waver.

“See,” he paused and ran his fingers through his hair in annoyance. “See, I had brought shame to out family name. The Padeleckies are never wrong, and that's all there is to it. My mother, she tried to defend me, but my grandmother had backed her into a corner. My mom didn't have any claim to the fortune, and I don't think my dad would ever leave her high and dry, but in my family you never know.

She,” he laughed bitterly here. “Grandma was furious with me. She refused to pay off the debt, and my dad couldn't go against his own mother. Judge Harlan gave my two months of Center correction, but it didn't do much for me. Physical pain isn't...scary for me or pleasant either. I ended up back in his courtroom a handful of times and my family disowned me. Haven't seen them in years.”

Harlan felt bad I think. I wasn't a bad kid. I didn't hurt anyone, but I kept getting in trouble. I didn't have a job or money. He gave me a rehabilitation assignment at the Center as a caseworker. I was nineteen years old. I'd had at least ten years of sentencing built up. Harlan said if I stayed for five, then I was free to go. Or stay.” Jared smiled. “I think he knew I needed something like this. Being able to help people without tripping all over my family's purse strings.”

Jensen frowned. “I don't know what you want from me.”

“Nothing. It doesn't matter. I just wanted you to know.”

“You think I did something wrong.”

“You did.”

“I didn't,” he said shaking his head. “I did what I thought was right, and I don't think there's anything you can tell me that's going to change that.”

Jared laughed and grunted a little as he got up from kneeling on the floor. It had to hurt, but he didn't complain. “That's why I want you to start doing pleasure sessions with me. All you see in our sessions is abuse. Until you can differentiate correction from mistreatment all these sessions aren't going to accomplish anything.” He gripped Jensen's chin in his palm. Not hard but enough so that Jensen couldn't break free. “You don't think I care.”

“Do you?”

“Yes.”

Silence stretched between them. Jared held his gaze until Jensen couldn't bear it anymore and looked away.

“Did you like what we did that night?”

His face flamed but Jared kept a firm grip on his jaw until he nodded.

“What was that?”

“I liked it.”

He heard Jared laugh softly.

“Did you now?”

“Yes,” he snapped.

“Yes what?”

His tone softened. “Yes, Sir.”

Jared smiled and rubbed his thumb over Jensen's lower lip. They were so close Jared could have leaned forward and captured those lips with his own. Instead, he blew out a shaky breath.

“Will I see you in two days?”

Jensen blushed nodding with enthusiasm.

He left Jensen there breathless and trembling with anticipation on the sofa.

He left a piece of paper on Jensen's desk hoping that the other man would be willing to give it a try. When he shut the door behind himself, Jared smiled.

 


	2. Gwen's Story

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A dystopian AU inspired by CW Center where corporal punishment is the norm and handled by dominant persons called caseworkers. Jensen is found guilty of several violations of speech and distribution of information and is sent to the Center for correction. He captivates a certain caseworker who knows better but can't stop his fascination with this specific case. An appointment with the Center doesn't go entirely as planned.

 Part Two: Gwen's Story

The next day found Jared seated on a bench in the central park. Summertime was well under way and the air was balmy and uncomfortable. His new puppy ran up and down the fields. Her name was Sadie and he had found her in a dumpster on his way home from work two weeks ago. Normally, he would have brought her down to the animal compound since he found caring for animals to a typically exhausting endeavor. But, there was something positively charming about the mangy little thing, so he had scooped her up and brought her to the nearest registration facility. She had been outfitted with a collar and a standard tracking device. He had her washed and vaccinated, then purchased some kibble. She had crept into his bed that night, and he found that he had come to love her very much. More than he had ever loved anyone except, perhaps, for his brother and sister.

“Sadie.” He whistled softly, and she trotted over to him, her tail wagging.

She nudged at his pocket, where she knew a bag full of treats was hidden. Chuckling, he pulled one out and lobbed it across the lawn. With a yelp, she jumped away from him and tore across the greenery.

“She's beautiful.”

Danni had taken a seat next to him. She was carrying a folio with some photographs and sketches poking out. He tilted hi head at it.

“Application for new artists,” she explained. “The firm takes a new class every summer. They do a few months apprenticeship with the more experienced artists, then they're on their own. Only twenty-five a year, though.”

Sadie had come back, slobbering all over and looked up at Danni quizzically.

“I wanted to thank you for staying on with Jensen,” she said. “He likes you. A lot,” she added with a smile.

Sadie rested her head on Danni's knee, who scratched behind her ear obligingly. Jared watched them silently.

“It violated the ruled imposed at his sentence for him to take the initiative to talk to you. I just...” she broke off and turned back to the dog. “I want you to know that you're important to him now.”

“I've had several session with him now. We spend what is probably the most emotionally and physically intensive and exhausting time of his life together,” he said. “The Center is what is important. I just....manifest that I guess.”

She shook her head. “You're not just his caseworker anymore. He _cares_ about you. That's not the easiest thing for him to do, Jared.”

“It's not something I should be concerned with.”

“Of course it is,” she said calmly. “It's your job to,” she added standing up.

Sadie nuzzled her led, and Danni knelt back down to kiss her muzzle.

“How would you feel if I ignored her?” She raised an eyebrow and managed to stare him down from some point beneath his waist until he turned away. “I'd like you to come to dinner tonight with me and Gwen.”

When he looked back down to answer her, she was gone.

~

A day meant to be spent wallowing in doing nothing had turned into a mental and physical exercise in morality that Jared was seriously considering his involvement in. He found himself at Danni's dinner table a few hours later. The quiet Gwen was on his left, and Danni was sitting across from him. A bowl of rice and a platter of chicken steamed between them right along with their mutual silence.

Danni cleared her throat. “That you for coming, Jared. I appreciate it. Gwen does, too.” She placed her hand over the other woman's.

Trying to ignore their easy intimacy, Jared turned to his chicken, which turned out to be surprisingly flavorful and peppery. It did nothing to help him feel more angry at them for forcing him out here.

“I used to work at the Center,” Gwen began quietly.

He looked up to see the doctor's eyes focused intently on him. Without saying anything, he nodded and drank deeply from his glass of wine.

“There used to be a research lab on site, in the basement. It's used for student demonstrations and practice experiments now, but when I first started it was a renowned place. Going there was a big deal. It was a golden assignment. After working at the Center Labs, any scientist had top picks of any government positions that came up. If you recall, 13 years ago the border was a militarized zone, and the State wanted to change that. Escape were eighty percent successful. Soldiers proved to be terribly inefficient when it came to killing women and children trying to get out.

“I was working on a grant to develop a tracking system that would work seamlessly with human biology.”

She laughed bitterly and Jared jumped at the harshness of it. Danni frown, entwining their fingers and squeezing tightly.

“Come on. Just tell him. Like you told me,” she pleaded. “You told me, and you can tell him, too.”

A long moment passed, and in that moment, a war crossed Gwen's face. Anger. Reluctance. Fear. Regret.

Her voice wavered but grew stronger as she continued. “I succeeded. The BioChip started out as one of my prototypes. It was supposed to implanted beneath the jaw with a hypodermic and act as a long rage locator. The State didn't agree and pulled me off the project. I wasn't what they needed in a leader they told me.

“And I was given all sorts of perks and leniency to remain on the project -off the record of course – as a consultant. They used my prototypes in, and they were just used to track the animals down. They released 17 dogs and recovered 17 dogs.

“I got a raise.

“Crystal Labs in the capital, it's still in operation I believe, took an interest after that. Their assignment had been to design a means of influencing the processes of human biology from a distance. They hadn't been able to create a system, but they were given the opportunity to expand my chip's capabilities.

“They returned is six weeks later for testing. Captain Bly conducted the experiment. Seven operators were set up to monitor fourteen dogs. Once the dogs crossed a makeshift border, the operators were to initialize a termination program. Ten dogs were terminated. Two of the operators couldn't bring themselves to activate the system.

“It was messy, though, because the chips hadn't been tuned yet. A few of them died instantaneously. Most of them died from the pain. Seizures mostly except for one that bashed his head into the wall until he bled out.”

Her icy tone finally began to give way, and a single tear slid down her cheek. “They put me on a new team created to modify the chip for human use. I wasn't the leader this time. A woman named Genevieve Corteses was. She was...incredible. A force of nature. It took me a month to figure out she was a member of The Resistance.

“It was a young group then. Back when JDM still meant something.” Jared flinched a little at the moniker. JDM had been the leader of The Resistance, and it was rumored that he still was, that he had managed to slip through the clutches of the State. “The State was young then, too-worried. The Chancellor at the time, Cole Blackstone, was concerned about the security. The 'safety of the state' he called it. Ten years is nothing for a government after all. It they failed, then they would be forgotten and lose all of that power they had worked so hard to acquire. The hunts of now are nothing compared to what they used to do behind closed doors. JDM was in high demand and turning over anything that led to the arrest of a member of The Resistance was worthy of recognition and reward.”

Her voice hitched with a sob, and Danni reached out to rub a hand soothingly along the woman's arm.

“It's okay, Gwen. You don't have to keep going.”

She pressed a kiss against the inside of Gwen's wrist.

“They killed her,” she strangled out. “It got out that she knew where JDM was, but she refused to give him up. Her execution was performed...performed with the first commercialized chip. I injected it because she requested me at her sentencing. I was the attending physician at her execution, and I hated myself for it.”

Jared watched her warily. Gwen was a beautiful woman, but now he could see all of the cracks in her facade. Seeing Danni rub gently at her flesh and sooth at her face with dry palms, he knew he was looking at the shattered remains of a once brilliant and creative doctor.

“I wanted to cure cancer! I designed that chip to manipulate proteins and cells in blood, and it worked. But,” she sighed, “no one else wanted to save anyone. She was the first successful kill in the project. Death by massive cranial hemorrhage, and they never found JDM.”

Jared spoke for the first time since Gwen had begun her story.

“You think it would have changed anything?”

An ugly smile twisted her features.

“Not a thing, Jared. Not a thing.”

 


	3. Chapter 3

Part Three: Please Me

Jensen was surprised at where he was asked to report. At the main desk, the receptionist had clipped an elevator key onto his wrist bank with directions that he go up to the seventh floor. He swallowed uneasily and took the elevator up. A silly thrill went through him at being allowed to ride the elevator without anyone else watching him, but he felt confident in knowing that he was being obedient to Jared's desires and commands.

Once he stepped out of the elevator, however, he froze. There was nothing familiar in sight. A whimper escaped him and he backed up against the wall. There were people  _everywhere._ Milling about, making phone calls and waving around piece of paper. This was wrong, and his stomach clenched as a feeling of unease washed over him.

“Hey,” a large man with a heavy shadow on his jaw approached him. “You lost?”

Jensen squeaked and tried to disappear into the wall. Was it impolite to be speechless in front of the Center staff? This guy was rather big, like Jared. It was a little uncanny how similarly they seemed. Except this man had light hair. Jensen squirmed. He didn't want to do anything that might make the Center reconsider his sentence. Again. The year he had to serve was a terrifying enough prospect.

The man smiled. “Don't worry. I'm not gonna hurt you. Where were you supposed to be? Who's your caseworker?”

“Jared,” he breathed. “I was...they told me the seventh floor.”

“Eh? This is the seventh floor,” and Jensen felt a little smug at that. “They probably gave you the wrong key. You're on the wrong side. Come on. I'll take you to him, so you don't get in trouble if your late.”

He guided Jensen back into the elevator and went through the other set of doors, using his own keys this time.

“My name's Tom,” he clapped Jensen on the shoulder and smiled. “I hired Jared. Trained him myself. You're lucky to have him.”

Jensen felt his face go hot and kept his eyes on the ground. Tom chuckled. “You must be Jensen then.”

They walked down the hall and rounded a corner.

“Well, there you are!”

“Jared!” Jensen rushed forward to explain but paused, shyly looking at Tom. “I got lost,” he said quietly.

His caseworker smiled, gently ruffling his hair. “No trouble I hope. Tom?”

The new man shrugged. “Nah. Sweet kid, though. He's a good boy.” He winked. “Have fun,” he said before vanishing down the hall.

“You're all right?”

Jensen looked up at him. “I didn't mean to.” His voice trembled and he hated it, but he didn't want the flogger again. Didn't want Jared to tie him up and hurt him anymore. “I'm sorry, Sir.”

“So, I'm Sir now?”

His hand flew to his mouth. He had slipped. In front of Tom, too! Calling a caseworker by his name at the Center was prohibited. He bowed his head to ask for the due punishment.

“Will Sir please give me correction to prevent further insubordination?”

“No,” Jared said. “I'll explain after our session. Remember to ask me.”

“Yes, Sir.”

Jared craned his neck and when he decided that Tom was out of sight, he cleared his throat. Jensen dropped his head, waiting for instruction.

“Drop to your knees and follow me on all fours.”

He turned on his heel and walked into a room with a nameplate on the door that read 'PADELECKI – SENIOR CASEWORKER.' Jensen followed and heard rather than saw the door close behind him.

“How are you feeling?”

“Fine, Sir.”

“Your injuries.”

Jensen paused, thinking. “They're better, Sir. My knee hurts a little and my ass is sore.”

“Kneeling must hurt then,” he mused. “Can you stand comfortably?”

“Yes, Sir.”

“Up then.” He watched Jensen rise with his arms folded and a fond look in his eyes. “Did you read my instructions?”

His heart began to pound. “Yes, Sir.”

“You followed them?”

“Of course, Sir!”

Jared quirked an eyebrow and laughed. “Are you excited, 67?”

Reluctant to answer, Jensen looked away.

“67,” he said patiently, “I asked you a question. I expect you to answer me when I ask you a question.”

In a very small voice, he obeyed. “Yes, Sir.”

Jensen's face flamed. “I'm...excited.”

“Good. Don't be ashamed when you obey me. It is a great pleasure to myself and the State that you gain pleasure in your obedience.” Jared looked around the interior of his office. It was basic. Desk, chair, lamp, blotter, other chair. Couch. “This is not where I want to have our session. Go through the door behind my desk. There will be a box of implements. You will pick one paddle, a flogger, a phallus and whichever lube you prefer. There are several,” he added with a wicked grin. “Then sit down on the bed with the toys you chose on the side table. Do you understand?”

“Yes, Sir.”

“You gave your request to the receptionist?”

“Yes, Sir.”

He turned to his desk and saw the envelope with a carefully written Sir Jared on the front and a 67 in the bottom right corner. He smiled to himself before smoothing his features into a cool mask.

“Are you prepared?”

He jerked his chin at the door. “Go ahead. I'll be in shortly.”

Jensen looked back at him before carefully pushing the door opening and closing it softly behind him. Smirking at the unusual coyness, Jared sat at his desk and opened the envelope. Jensen's handwriting was careful and precise. His lips curled into a smile at the thought of him seizing on something to satisfy Jared's demand, and he liked what he saw. It was an interesting request. One he didn't get very often.

~

On the other side of the door was a large bed chamber with a sinister collection of sex toys and bondage gear that reminded Jensen of the areas downstairs where he was regularly tied and whipped. He shivered and went to the box that Jared had promised would be there. He picked the least intimidating phallus, a cooling lube because he had played with ice a long while ago and like it, but there was only one flogger in the box. He held it tightly for a moment. The handle was thick about an inch in diameter and just over a foot long with long tassels hanging down from it. They were blue and black flowing down like silk. He ran his fingers over the leather and trembled remembering how it had stung on his flesh the last time Jared had used it on him.

He placed the toys on the table and sat on the bed flinching slightly when his ass connected with the comforter. It was a soft bed, which he hadn't been expecting, and he marveled as he ran his fingers over its silky smoothness.

Soft music played in the background. Rainwater and piano.

“It's very comfortable, isn't it?”

“Sir,” he murmured softly. “Yes.”

“I would like you to undress for me.”

Jensen made to stand, but Jared shook his head. “Stay on the bed. I don't want you to hurt yourself.”

The look that Jensen gave him was a mix of ease and pleasure. He unbuttoned his shirt and eased it off before unzipping his jeans and easing them and his underwear down his hips. He gasped a little when Jared pushed him down on his back gently but firmly and pulled off his socks.

“You looked like you needed help. Turn around. Let me see.”

Jensen hid his face and turned around. The bed gave nicely, so his knees didn't ache. It was terribly perverse though. Turning around and offering himself, so Jared could inspect whether or not Jensen had obeyed the directions he had left for him two days ago.

“Very nice,” he said.

The bed dipped when he rested one knee on the mattress. He brushed over the handle of the dildo buried inside of Jensen's body. The older man whimpered. Some of the lube he had used slid down his crack and dripped down his thighs. Damn medical grade lube. It felt like he was filled with paint. And the toy of course. Jensen seized the silicone and twisted it.

“Ahh!” Jensen shrieked and whined, panting when Jared pulled back slowly removing the toy.

“Good,” he cooed. “So good for me. Keep your place.”

A slick sounding pop accompanied the toy slipping entirely out of his body. Jensen whined low in his throat. Jared pulled away and went around a corner just out of Jensen's sight. For a moment, blind panic settled in and he ached to sit up and go after the other man. Just as quickly as it had come, though, he ached with a profound sense of shame. His friends had suffered – died because of his desire to spread the word of freedom, and he was acting like a whore. Shameless and wanting for an officer of the State. The State he was supposed to hate.

When Jared came back, he sensed the change in Jensen. The other man had been melting in his hands just moments before, but now he was tense. The muscles in his back tight.

“Are you going to be difficult, 67?”

“No, Sir,” but there was a distance in his words that hadn't been there before.

Jared nodded sagely. “I see. Let's get you ready then.”

Jensen tensed. He thought the dildo had been preparation. It seemed that Jared wasn't done yet. There was a tinkling of metal that put him on edge, and he craned his neck to see something shiny hanging from Jared's.

“Lie down on your back. Can you do that comfortably?”

He nodded. “Yes, Sir.”

“Close your eyes. I want to hear what you've been studying in those classes of yours.” There was a pause where he could hear Jared walking around the room or maybe it was just the bed. He couldn't be certain. “Tell me who the first two Chancellors were.” He ran his hands gently over Jensen's chest and his nipple swelled and stiffened.

“Evan Knight,” he rattled off easily.

They had drilled that one hard in class. The 'knight' of the new State order. His mouth twisted at the thought, but suddenly, he was panting and gasping. It felt like his chest was on fire. His left nipple  _ached_ , and he bit his lip. His eyes flew open, but Jared had one large hand planted on his sternum.

“No moving. You'll like it. I promise. You're doing very well, 67. Who else?”

“One hell of a punishment,” he murmured softly.

“This isn't about pain, Jensen.” He made sure Jensen noted the use of his name. “It's about growth.” His voice became businesslike once more. “And who else, 67?”

“Chancellor Blackstone,” he ground out.

His thighs trembled and the muscles jerked uselessly. The hurt in his chest was so...so...so much, and nothing he did, no matter how subtly he shifted, did anything to relieve it.

Jared attached a clamp to the other nipple, and a slim chain connecting the two fell like silk onto his chest. The coldness and the smallness of it was ticklish, and he giggled trying not to scream at the same time.

“Interesting. You ever have this done to you, 67?”

He shook his head.

“Turn over.”

Trembling now, he obeyed. At first, he tried to balance on his forearms and elbows before giving up the pretense and falling forward to rest his head in the circle of his arms. His cheek reveled in the coolness of the comforter.

“How did it feel when you wore that dildo?” Jared asked. His voice was soft and steady as if they were talking about politics or shopping. “Did you like it?”

“I-uh!” he grunted when a blunt object pressed against his entrance.

Sweat broke out at his hairline and he tossed his head back and forth as he was slowly penetrated. It didn't hurt, though. Not like when he had done it to himself earlier. There was pressure and give – a coldness from the lube that tingled all throughout his body.

“67?”

“Uh,” he panted. “I don't...fuck. I don't remember, Sir.”

“Did you like wearing this dildo? In public? In front of Tom, the receptionist and everyone else?”

He whimpered. “I've never done it before, Sir. I'm not sure.”

“Let's see if you like it better when  _I_  put it in.”

Jared bore down and several more inches slipped in. He had never felt more full in his life. It felt like Jared had shoved his whole hand inside, but it didn't hurt. In fact, if Jensen had a choice, he might have sought it out.

He howled when it started moving.

“This isn't just a dildo. It's a vibrator pressed right up against your prostate. Good?”

Jensen cried and moaned. It felt...too much. His cock twitched and hardened between his legs. The ache from his chest and the pulse in his ass only confused him more. It felt good. Really good. He tried to grind his hips against the mattress, but Jared gripped his thigh.

“No moving. I'll decide when you get off, and you will be an obedient Citizen and wait for my order. Is that clear?”

“Yes, Sir. Clear, Sir.”

“Good.”

Jared smiled to himself and petted Jensen's hair fondly letting his hand drift down his neck and back to rest on the the curve just before his ass. The flesh was clammy here and the muscles bunched in anticipation. He reached for the jar of oil off to the side. It was sweet like vanilla and warm from sitting in the sun. He drizzled it all over his palms and then Jensen's back. The other man sighed when Jared slowly began rubbing the oil into his skin massaging away the ache with tenderness.

“How is your knee?”

He felt Jensen startle a little under his hands. The older man had almost forgotten about the injury but a twinge of pain reminded him.

“It's manageable, Sir.”

Jared made a soft noise of understanding. He continued to sooth and rub until the tightness in Jensen's back melted away.

“Turn around, please.”

Gingerly, Jensen turned trying not to sit directly on the vibrator buried at least five inches in his body and failing miserably. Jared enjoyed the sight before pushing down on his shoulders and forcing him onto the mattress. Jensen gasped and gripped Jared's wrist rutting down on the toy eagerly. The pleasure on his face was obvious even if he wasn't ready to admit he enjoyed having something shoved up into him.

“On your back.”

Once he was supine, Jared reached behind his knee and canted it up. He knew it forced the toy to change angles and Jensen's sharp gasp confirmed it. He slowly felt around the back tendons to make sure nothing had swollen and moved onto the knee cap. When he pressed down, Jensen shot up.

“Stop! Please,” he whispered.

“It's alright. I'll be careful. Trust me.”

Jared pressed again more gently and the knee cap's owner watched him fearfully but didn't complain. It was just sore and tender from the fall, but it didn't seem to have dislocated. He would check again after the session and bandage it if he had to, but Jensen might not need it.

“I'm going to rub it to make sure it's stable. Okay?”

Jensen nodded tightly. Transfixed on Jared's big hands on his skin, the clamps and vibrator faded into the background. He was acutely aware of the warmth of his hands and the good soap smell that seemed to encase all of Jared. It was safe. In those big warm hands, with Jared all tangled up in his limbs, Jensen felt warm and kept. For those brief moments together, he was kept and  _belonged_  to someone.

“You'll be fine. No kneeling,” he grinned wickedly, “which I guess limits us a little.”

“After a fashion,” Jensen muttered.

Jared looked up at him with a shocked look on his face, then broke out into a grin. “There's fight in you yet, Pet.”

He blushed furiously at the endearment and didn't want to examine too closely his desire to hear Jared say it again.

“I'm going to blindfold you,” he said his tone becoming harsher, more caseworker than lover. It was unnerving and Jensen didn't like it.

So Jensen said nothing. He knew better than to question orders. This 'pleasure' session was more preferential to any of his other session at the Center. If he could keep this...this illusion of Jared as something more than his caseworker, then he could make peace with it. He could handle the State if he wasn't alone anymore.

The blindfold was made of a soft clothe that fit snugly but not too snugly around his head.

“What are Citizen's Rights, 67?”

“To-”

He broke off sharply as something tickled the soles of his feet. The sensation went all through his body, straight to his cock and his pinched nipples and he rolled his hips. It felt like silky heavy strands were dragging up and down his feet, then they were draped over his ankles and danced over his legs like leather tentacles.

“67?”

“We have...” he gasped for air when Jared tickled his feet with the strands.

Undignified giggles spilled from his lips, and Jared grinned.

“You're not being very obedient,” no venom in his tone.

“No, Sir,” he agreed.

He twisted to get away and fell back to the bed gasping. The toy was pressing against that spot deep inside that made colors explode behind his eyelids. The tickling kept up and Jared pulled at the chain linking his nipples, and Jensen cried out brokenly. He was so close, right there, and he wasn't sure if Jared would let him come. If is was part of his job to get off his cases. Even if it was a pleasure session.

“Sir!” he said urgently. “I don't...I don't know what...”

“Keep still for me.”

He obeyed readily thankful for the order. The teasing strands kept brushing over his sensitive skin and the vibrator increased in its intensity. He whined and then Jared touched him  _there._ His cock fairly jumped in his caseworker's hands. It felt like that first and only time they had ever lain together, but it was so much better, too. He knew Jared was going to keep giving it to him. He had been so good, and the other man had been so proud of him.

He just wanted everyone to be happy with him.

“Don't,” Jared said. “Don't think. Just feel. Feel me touching you and pleasing you. Do you like it? Do you want more?”

“Yes,” he sighed. “Please.”

Jared shallowly thrust the vibrator in and out of Jensen's body until he was moaning and crying out openly barely stopping to breath. He moved his hand to Jensen's cock and stroked him firmly to the precipice of his orgasm and pushed his over the ends pumping him steadily through it. Jensen came blinded and trapped in Jared's hands and didn't think that he had ever come so hard before in his life.

“Are you here?” Jared teased taking off the blindfold.

Jensen blinked against the sudden light, and then Jared started bringing him back down. The clamps came up first and -oh fuck!- did that hurt. The ache went unbearably deep in a pleasant sort of way. The vibrator that had already been shut off and slowly came out, and Jensen winced a little as it left him feeling empty and ravished.

“Are you with me?”

“Yeah.”

“I take it your 'request' can hold off for a bit?”

He groaned at the idea, and Jared grinned.

“Though so.”

“Come on. Let's get you wound down.”

It was only after they had gotten into the bathroom and Jared ordered him into the tub that Jensen answered the question Jared had first asked him. The soap was generic and the water hot and good. Jared knelt on the side of the tub bathing Jensen's body almost reverently claiming that it was the role of the caseworker when acting as a dominant to meet all of the cases needs.

Jensen's voice was flat when he spoke. “We have only the privilege of serving the State, Sir.”

His voice was soft, and the other man in the bathroom with him frowned. Silence stretched between them. Jared didn't like this abrupt changes in Jensen's moods.

“Jensen, the ability to serve the State is something you should be proud of. There's nothing to be ashamed of if you are serving the State in the only way you know how.”

Jensen looked at him with hollow eyes. “There are people who have suffered, who have died because of me. I shouldn't be happy when I'm responsible for their pain.”

“The world doesn't turn because you do well, and it doesn't spin off its axis because you don't.” He helped him out of the tub and into a soft robe. “Your clothing is on the chest. I'll leave you to dress and take you to down to the reception area.”

~

Jensen took the tram home, clutching his appointment card tightly. He planned on going to sleep early, so he could wake up at dawn. He wanted to go down to the beach. There were some reference photos he wanted to take. His most recent project was giving him more problems than he had originally planned for. Work would take his mind off this uncomfortable thing growing between him and the man responsible for carrying out his sentence. Maybe then his heart would stop pounding with something that was very much  _not_ fear whenever he saw the giant form the Center.

 


End file.
